If I ever find the bird or slug that ate my strawberry, it’s dead. I hope it tasted terrible.
Today is proving challenging.
As I got out of bed to make my morning tray of tea, I was forced to accept that a lot of my major muscle masses were somewhat painful.
In fact, this is a level of discomfort that I have rarely experienced. I don’t think it’s ok to shout “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” every time you go to bend your legs to sit down but I can’t seem to stop doing it. It’s like a gremlin has taken over my speech.
I am also making groaning noises when I stand up. Slightly less embarrassing.
Worse still, the sweary shouty thing shouldn’t be done too close to an open window because it makes elderly female passers-by upset. Sorry.
I’m going to ask Zoe if I can do the easier routine. The one designed for 80 years and above. I’m sure she’ll understand.
Jigsaws are the perfect remedy for sore muscles.
Gin helps too.